I mean, to me, freaking out is different. More of a running away, not telling anyone what's wrong, slowly simmering until you burst kind of thing.

“I don’t believe in failure,” she was saying in that confident, breezy way. “Bec…”

“There was something striking about a single key. It was like a question waiting…”

“After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.”

“Timing clicking together, finally, pieces falling into place.”